I Fell for Myself by Stella Mira

Never Again

"I still don't think this is a good idea. I might end up causing real damage to my lady parts with your claws." Kagome examined the keen-edged nails, skeptical – and more than a little wary.

"Slice off the pointed ends of your claws, miko. They will re-grow in a few hours."

"You really are determined to make me do this." A sibilant noise spilled past his lips, resembling a 'tsk', but she did as he bade.

"Please hold still. You might feel uncomfortable, but bear with me."

Hands snaked under the plated skirt, slid the panties down his legs. Mellow, careful were her motions. She clasped his left hip as a means of support then stroked the soft flesh, searched for the familiar entrance. Slowly, almost mechanically, Kagome pushed the white cylinder inside her former body. His skin was slick under the pads of her fingers, made malleable with heat and wetness. Awareness surged in her bloodstream with tidal waves, evoked a feeling of vertigo, lightheadedness. It was too intimate, roused sensations, twisted her mind towards notions she would rather never contemplate. If not for the intensity of his gaze, Kagome might have made allowances, fatuous excuses for herself, for her weak will, but she wasn't granted such liberties.

"It is the scent of heat mixed with blood that is causing you unrest, miko. Do not be ashamed if you are aroused." His features were as strained as hers – perhaps even more. It mollified Kagome, emboldened her.

"It's the female hormones wreaking havoc through your body. Don't take it too hard if you're getting turned on." Straight-forward, she challenged him with her eyes to deny it, but he kept quiet – until he could no longer withstand it.

"Is it done yet?"

"Yes, I'm done."

It wasn't a lie but not the truth either. Her forehead pressed against his, perspiration on taut skin, but her fingers never ceased their slow penetration, inside out, back and forth.

"Then you can stop." Sesshōmaru clutched her forearm. His voice was too breathy, his words didn't sound like a command – even if it was.

"I should stop." More of a rumble, less than a whisper. The scent of blood, the essence of lust, was intoxicating, spiraled inside her, burning. She rubbed that bundle of nerves, circled the sensitive tissue, until he gave a gasp, until his body admitted things neither would ever admit.

"Miko – it is enough."

Nails bit into her forearm, ignited roughness and need. Too much. Too soon.

"I…don't know why I can't stop. Make me stop."

He was so wet and tight and warm inside that she cursed him for it. Hard flesh against her abdomen, tightness coiled, writhed – twinges of ache, pleas for release.

"Very well." Low-spoken desire, thick and painful and urgent. Fingers glided against her front, sought to alleviate that throb, to drag her into decadence.

"This is all your fault." A growl escaped her throat, feral, full of accusation – but a vocalization of more. Slim fingers, dexterous – Sesshōmaru knew how to touch her, where to knead, when to press.

"There is no point in placing blame now."

Kagome gave in, hips thrusting, muscles contracting – but only to the call of want, merely that. She made sure he knew that.

"Never again."

Canines sank into his lower lip, pierced the reddened flesh, tasted the lust of his blood, the source of their lapse.

"Never again."

His words tangled with her tongue, drowned under the coalescence of their release.